Bald Headed Freaks
by presidentuziel
Summary: Now alone in his travels after Fey Entreri leaves to be with her lover, Jarlaxle finds his wit and smarm slipping away. Concerned for his wellbeing, he does what he ahs never done before: He goes to a priest for personal help.
1. Chapter 1: A Bird Like Me

Chapter 1

A Bird Like Me

Jarlaxle felt good for the Svirfneblin. For the first time for several years, he had the chance to return to his home. It was a warm but somber farewell as the mages worked with the Blidgenstone wizards to create a portal for a safe travel home for Seldig. Bruenor promised to see to continued contact between Mithril Hall and Blidgenstone, and Seldig eagerly agreed. A few more good-byes were exchanged, none of which Jarlaxle was a part of. He felt happy for Seldig, who he had traveled with alongside Bugsight for four months, but another hole in his heart had been bored. Bugsight had returned to his life working for Waterdeep, and now Seldig was returning home. Jarlaxle was once again on his own.

But Jarlaxle was not a man that liked to travel alone, and knew that he would have company again soon enough. Jarlaxle was welcomed by Drizzt's family and friends; not necessarily accepted by the Dwarves, but welcomed nonetheless. But while Jarlaxle liked his luxuries, he had no intention of using up hospitality. There was still too much to do and too much to see.

Jarlaxle was seen by few people as he left Mithril Hall. After two dozen paces or so, Jarlaxle would stop and think. The worlds around him seemed to reek of emotions, and Jarlaxle found himself longing to be saturated in it, as well. He had known so many adventures that tested him to his limits, but there were bigger adventures yet, and Jarlaxle, while not old, was not young, either. He had a few centuries left, but not as many as he once had at his disposal.

Suddenly, he noticed a bird staring directly at him. Its body was covered in brown feathers, but its head was white, and its eye's pupil was yellow. Its right eye, however, was scarred and shut. Jarlaxle struggled to remember what the bird was called, and remembered its name: Cockatoo Hawk. Jarlaxle nodded to it, and walked away. Two dozen paces later, he stopped and thought some more. Again, the bird caught his eye as it landed on a tree branch in front of him. Jarxale stared at it for a while, and walked away again. He noticed, however, that its feet were seared.

"He likes you," a voice said, and Jarlaxle jumped. Jarlaxle had been snuck up on before, but only Zaknafein Do'Urden (the first one) had ever done it successfully before. He looked, and saw Phaeraste studying the bird.

"Seems so," Jarlaxle said.

"Bald Eagles normally avoid people, but this one's rather brave. Unsure, but brave. Hold out your arm, like this," Phaeraste instructed, and Jarlaxle obeyed. The eagle studied Jarlaxle's arm, and fluttered to it, grasping it hard. Jarlaxle winced as its talons dug into his arm, but he did not bleed.

"Interesting," Phaeraste said, "What do you see in Jarlaxle that I do not?"

The two eyes of Jarlaxle and the eagle locked for a moment. The bird cocked its head to the right, pecked Jarlaxle on the head, and flew away as Phaeraste burst out laughing. Jarlaxle rubbed the spot where he was pecked, and looked at Phaeraste with a hurt expression.

"First Zak's child cries at the sight of me, now birds trick me into letting them peck me on the head. What is it that I'm losing?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Your mind. From what I've learned, nobody here on the surface uses that as it is," Phaeraste chuckled.

"The same could be said for home," Jarlaxle reminded her.

"I thought the surface was your home?" Phaeraste reminded him. Jarlaxle smiled and nodded; she was right. After being tortured with fire the way he had, he had no wish to see his evil kin again. He had known Drow cruelty; he had practiced it himself on numerous occasions. But Jarlaxle was no longer the same opportunist mercenary he once was.

"The road has been my home for my entire life. The road seems to have taken me here, however, and I don't particularly want to take the road back," Jarlaxle said.

"I used to long for my life in Menzoberranzan. But I've since decided that my life here is far less…Predictable. Down there life revolves around power, and likely I would have achieved a place of grandeur, only to be slain and my position taken over. Here, successful lives are measured differently."

"Not by much," Jarlaxle said, "Depending, of course, on what you're doing."

"I am not as well-traveled as you, so I'll simply take your word on that."

Jarlaxle found no words rising to his mind. That had never happened to him before. Jarlaxle _always_ had something to say. And yet he could find none, and he felt a compulsion to continue talking at the same time. A muffled grunt erupted from his vocal chords.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing," Jarlaxle hastily said. His unscarred skin turned a very dark red, and his face grew hot. Jarlaxle looked away, hoping to hide his embarrassment, but Phaeraste was one of the few people that could read Jarlaxle; she always could.

"I've got to get back to my grove," Phaeraste said, "It's good to know that you're doing well for yourself, Jarlaxle. I hope you find peace in your road."

"And you," Jarlaxle replied. _'And you'?_ _That all I can think of? I'm losing it! Am I doomed to become a witless shell?_

When Jarlaxle looked again, Phaeraste was gone. Druids and their plants. Back on the branch, however, was the bald eagle. Jarlaxle gave the bird a spiteful glare, and the eagle seemed to look back at him smugly. Jarlaxle continued walking, this time not stopping to think. When he looked up, he saw the eagle circling above him. Stupid bird. But Jarlaxle thought of everything he'd seen, and decided that the bird was probably far wiser than he was.


	2. Chapter 2: Cumpulsion

Chapter 2

Compulsion

Jarlaxle and his bird (which he named Dinin) spent three months traveling together. Jarlaxle and the bird seemed to argue on a regular basis about everything, but the bird always seemed to be right. Jarlaxle knew that he hadn't lost his wit, as he often outthought and manipulated people as he always had, but on three occasions he stumbled across people that he had known, and each time he found himself speaking little and seeming distant, and the two that he hadn't met on hostile terms seemed concerned, but said nothing. The one that he had fought upon their meeting tormented Jarlaxle, and Jarlaxle bit his tongue when he escaped; he hadn't thought of a single retort, and that was definite proof that something was wrong with him, and he needed to find out what.

Jarlaxle could only think of one thing, something he had done few times in his life: Ask for help. But Jarlaxle hadn't the faintest idea on where to go. Then he remembered Cadderly, the cleric that helped him and Artemis destroy the Crystal Shard. Jarlaxle recalled the trail there, and altered his course. It never occurred to him that Cadderly was a human, and was probably dead by this time.

When he reached Cadderly's temple, its décor had changed, but not drastically. Sculptures had been placed around it, and the temple itself had a new color. There were a few people loitering about, and Jarlaxle saw a familiar man in robes. Jarlaxle waited for the crowd to dissipate before approaching Cadderly, which was around sunset. The priest went into the temple, obviously relieved to be finished with the day. It was odd, Cadderly seemed to be younger than when they first met. Then it hit Jarlaxle; Cadderly was a human, and it had been almost fifty years since they met. The cleric was probably dead or senile. But they were affiliates, and whoever this priest was, and he looked like a relative, he probably knew of Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle followed the priest into the temple, and the priest heard Jarlaxle enter, but id not look.

"The day's over, can't you people leave me alone for the night?" the priest asked, and he turned. His eyes grew wide and he took a step back at the sight of Jarlaxle.

"I warn you, Dark Elf, I-"

"Are in no danger," Jarlaxle assured him, "If I was here to hurt you, I would be accompanied. Beyond Dinin, of course, but he'd only be able to peck at you a bit."

"What is Dinin? A Hook Horror? I've fought my share of them!"

"Dinin's a bird," Jarlaxle said, and the priest relaxed.

"Oh…Okay. Then, uh, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for Cadderly, but I don't think he's around much anymore, I he?"

"Actually, he is. He's buried in the graveyard about a mile away," the priest said, "I'm his grandson. My name's Saddi. May I ask why a Dark Elf is standing in my temple, beyond looking for my grandfather, despite his decaying state?"

"I knew Cadderly some odd years ago. I was hoping to speak to a priest."

"Well, you can usually find one of those here. Except when you can't, then your luck's run out. Hold on, let me remember the spell," Saddi said. There was a pause, and Saddi began casting, and Jarlaxle felt his body grow warm with magic. He felt most of his scars heal then and there, but he could feel some of them still on his body.

"There you go. Good to meet you, owner-of-Dinin-the-bird. I'll see you around," Saddi said warmly.

"My name's Jarlaxle. And that's not why I'm here," Jarlaxle said. Saddi moaned.

"I've been up for a whole day. I remember yesterday's sunrise, and I don't remember sleeping in between. Can we continue tomorrow?" Saddi begged.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Jarlaxle teased.

"I've got plenty of it. When I'm not about to collapse of exhaustion," Saddi snapped, "You can sleep on the pews if you want. I know I have."

"I've got a hammock that's even more comfortable that I'll sleep on."

"More for me," Saddi said, and the priest crawled onto one of the pews, and his snores were almost immediate. Jarlaxle shrugged, and started sniffing around for interesting things around the temple. Jarlaxle had never been good with killing time, and after arguing with Dinin for a while, he strung his hammock and tried to sleep, but he found sleep difficult to come by that night. It finally came to him when the hammock's strings snapped, and Jarlaxle bumped his head on a rock below.

Jarlaxle awoke with a kick. He moaned, rubbed his side, and looked up at Saddi, who was standing over him.

"That looks _real_ comfortable," Saddi joked, and Jarlaxle forced himself off the ground. He didn't hit the rock hard, but he still felt a bruised bump on the back of his head.

"It's just a bit more comfortable," Jarlaxle sighed. He rubbed his bump and shook his head. He felt light-headed and a bit dazed, but he could still remember who he was, and so that, at least, was a positive sign.

"Come inside, my balding friend. I've got a few eggs left that smell fresh enough, and we can have breakfast and discuss your problem," Saddi said, and helped Jarlaxle off of the ground. Dinin was sitting on a branch, looking at Saddi and Jarlaxle accusingly.

"They're only eggs, Dinin. You eat birds yourself, I've seen you do it. Chickens are little more than miniature cattle with feathers. It's not like I'm roasting your mother," Jarlaxle told the bird. Saddi took a step backwards.

"It seems that we have a lot to discuss," Saddi muttered more to himself.

"So, Jarlaxle, I know a little bit about you; you and Entreri asked my grandfather for help in destroying Crenshinnabon, and he kept tabs on you afterward to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. It seems you've been doing plenty of that without much consequence, though. Let's start at the last few years," Saddi said.

"How is that important to my problem?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Because somewhere in between then and now is where your problem began," Saddi replied, "and I'm also looking for new stories to tell in my sermons. It's not all fire and brimstone, you know."

"All right, then. Entreri left my company after a while, but eventually we met up again in Luskan, and we simply walked out of the gates together. Entreri was far from the man I first met by that time. He was still a rather unpleasant fellow, but he had enough personality to be tolerable. We made regular trips to visit his lover, which I made sure always ended with a large stash. At one point she gave birth, and we avoided them for a couple of years, but we resumed our regular visits soon enough."

"You must have thought highly of Entreri," Saddi observed.

"Entreri was a brilliant fighter and a cunning man. And when you could get him to smile, it was worth the bruises it takes to get him to do so. And when he was near Calihye, he revealed his true self: a troubled adolescent with something better hidden in his heart. After his daughter's birth, I saw him truly grow up. He became much more social, even pulling the jokes on me. Even though he avoided his daughter, Fey, I could tell he was happier than he had ever been about anything."

"And what about you? We're not looking for Entreri's problems, he's dead."

"That's true. We were usually focused on our adventures more than anything, but seeing Entreri change like that made the travels well worth it. When he was too old to move too far from one place, I usually didn't venture too far. When he finally died, I bought his tombstone myself. It was the least I could do for him. He wanted to die being bested, not withered on a bed the way he did."

"From the sounds of it Jarlaxle, you gave him much more than a tombstone," Saddi pointed out.

"He died owing me a hundred pieces. I'm a mercenary, not a eulogist. After that, I traveled here and there with various acquaintances. Eventually, though, I fougth alongside a group of bumbling mages to capture a rather interesting artifact from a group of Druids, and Calihye and Fey were fighting with the Druids. My mage employers fell during the fight, and so I was still paid, but the Druids wanted to remove my head. Calihye knew me and saved my life."

"What was that like?"

"I saved her life once. She saved mine; we're even."

"Saving someone else's life is not an idle favor. In my experience that's something that sticks to someone for life."

"Calihye once threatened to castrate me; your insinuations are baseless, Saddi. There is no more romance between myself and Calihye as there is between Luskan and Neverwinter. Calihye is my best friend's lover and the mother of another close friend. Anything less and one of us would be dead already."

"Just trying to help," Saddi said with a smile. Neither had touched their food yet, "If we're to have a successful breakfast, we ought to explore as much as we can. But please, go on."

"Well, as I left their company, I was joined by Fey, who, by that time, was well into womanhood and every bit the daughter of her parents, although she is a bit more social than either. And I've never had a companion quite like her. I didn't have to work her for a laugh; she drew them out of me. She had one quirk, however; she despised uncleanliness and foul-smelling things, even though she had a great love for the road and adventure, the gritty and the clean. She spent more money on perfumes and baths than food. I can only wonder how Zak is putting up with it," Jarlaxle continued.

"Zaknafein Do'Urden? Drizzt's son?" Saddi said, coughing on the first bite of the meal by either.

"Yes, the one and the same, though I knew his grandfather, who had the same name. Zak and Fey have a child now. I'm happy for Fey, Zak will take care of her. He has a big heart, that one. It's going to get him in trouble one day. Already has."

"And how do you feel for Zak?"

"Fey won't take care of him the same way he'll care for her, but he's happy, and Zak has saved my life, so I'm glad he's happy."

"Don't you regret anything?"

"Zak is a good friend, no more. I'd like for you to stop insinuating things."

Saddi let out a hearty laugh, which Jarlaxle joined. It was a good three minutes before Saddi stopped, and when he finished, the priest gasped,

"That's got to be one of the better answers I've received in a long time. I did, however, mean Fey."

Jarlaxle inhaled deeply and gazed into thought before shaking his head.

"I do not and never have thought of Fey as a romance. Fey is Entreri's daughter. Even though we did have one night together, I think of Fey more as my brother's daughter. No doubt she sees me as an uncle."

"You know them better than I."

"You have never met Zak?"

"I had the pleasure of meeting his brother and his father on one occasion, but I have never met Zak. An interesting family, to say the least."

"I have known the Do'Urden line longer than you, and _interesting_ is an understatement."

"How long have you known the Do'Urdens?"

"I knew Drizzt's father, Zaknafein, and his brother, Dinin, personally. I was hired by his mother, sister, and daughter. Since then I have met virtually every member of his family since he became the patron of the Do'Urden line."

"Drizzt has a daughter? This is news to me."

"Yes, a lively Drow woman. I knew her when she lived in Menzoberranzan, and met with her briefly before I came here. When I knew her in the city, she was just like any other Drow priestess: Ambitious, cunning, and able to control anyone she wanted. One thing that set her apart was her ability to see into people's true nature. I know she did it to me. From what I understand she's changed to fit into the surface. Then again, I've also heard she's still ambitious, cunning, and able to control anyone she wanted, only now she can do it with the aid of animals and plants rather than spiders."

"She saw into you?"

"Twice."

Saddi nodded, and thought for a moment. He took a bite of his breakfast, which was now lukewarm.

"So, you named your bird Dinin, after Drizzt's brother, from what you've said. Why is that? Why not Entreri, who was your closest ally and friend for so long?"

"If Entreri was like my brother, then Dinin was like an adopted son. Entreri taught me, and I taught Entreri, but I was the only teacher with Dinin. He was my bets lieutenant, and I taught him everything I could. I would have left the band to him had he not been slain."

"How did he die?"

"His sister turned him into a Drider, and every bit of his person died. Drizzt put him out of his misery."

"How do you think Drizzt will react if and when he finds out about the bird?"

"I don't care. Drizzt did not know Dinin as I did. I have more claim to Dinin as family than Drizzt does," Jaraxle said shortly.

"No need to get defensive," Saddi said, a hint of a smirk behind his face, "But if I may, I think we may have struck something here. We have been speaking of Drizzt's family for so long, but what about Drizzt? You are the friend of his father, the mentor of his brother, and a father figure to his daughter-in-law. What is it about Drizzt that you feel you must defend yourself like that?"

"I am curious on how he leads his life the way he does. To me, as a Drow and as a Mercenary, it is alien to me, and yet his sons live the way he does. And they are all happy. Despite the sadness of losing Cattie-Brie just over a year ago, they are living happily."

"I think you're jealous."

Jarlaxle thought for a moment and nodded.

"I have admitted that before," Jarlaxle admitted, but he shook his head, "But I am not jealous. If I was jealous, I would want to be him. I do not want to be Drizzt."

"Then you're envious. You want something that you both can have, and yet you do not have. Many people see envy as a sin."

"Do you?"

"I am a priest. What most people do not realize is that I dabble in people, not Gods. If I did, then you would be speaking with someone else in the Temple of Saddi. I do not think of you any more of a sinner than I see myself. Although I would not doubt that you are more of a sinner than I."

"You have no idea."

"You know what I mean. You want to be happy like Drizzt; that is what I think. You have so many opportunities to have it, but you have not taken it yet. The life of adventure can only satiate someone for so long. Though you may live to see your four hundredth birthday, life is short for all of us, and there are only so many ways to resonate in history. But I do not encourage you to follow in Drizzt's footsteps. I cannot because then it will be a path of envy, and envy will destroy you, Jarlaxle. Find happiness through yourself, not through the happiness of a star. I believe that is the core of our breakfast, which has lost most of its heat at this point."

They heard a knock, and Saddi cursed as one of the villagers called for him.

"Please excuse me a moment, Jarlaxle. I'll shoo him away," Saddi said.

"It's quite all right. I'm going to take to the road and ponder what you've said today, Saddi. Than you for your help."

"You're more than welcome, you are thanked for coming. Normally I would ask you to spread the word of my temple, but you don't seem to be the type to put much stock in religion."

"On the contrary, religion has caused my stock to bulge a hundred fold on numerous occasions, but it would be a dry promise if I said that I would. Thank you again, Saddi."

"Any time."


End file.
